And yet, with my 71st Christmas three days away, I’m feeling tremendously blessed and upbeat as truly one of the lucky ones. With my medicine changed again and physical therapy apparently helping, I feel better and have more energy than in years. I’ve tried adopting Fox’s credo: Don’t let Parkinson’s beat you. It’s a whole lot harder than it sounds, but I’ve found a positive attitude helps immensely. It’s the primary reason I’m still able to handle two jobs.

I was diagnosed almost 10 years ago and figure I’ve talked to, or met, at least 50 others with Parkinson’s. They have come in all ages, shockingly young to very old; in all stages of the disease, a few better off than me, most the opposite; and, of course, with all levels of concern.

I’ve found it therapeutic to discuss Parkinson’s with these people, some of whom contacted me in the weeks and months after my colleague Jim Six’s excellent recap of my DBS (brave soul that he is, Jim was present in the OR while the surgeons drilled holes in my brain), and many of them since.

I vowed to never try to convince someone with Parkinson’s to have the surgery and have stuck by my guns. Because it involves the brain, there are risks. DBS isn’t for everyone. Some have lauded my “courage” for going through with it. But I believed all along the reward was well worth the risk. I viewed it as a means to recapture some quality of life. I still have the world’s worst penmanship (the letters are getting smaller), but no longer shake.

I’d undergo the surgery again. I’ve talked to dozens more who won’t do the surgery, or may not be considered candidates, but just wanted to talk about our common ordeal. I became part of a quasi-support group.

Anyone who knows me well is aware I’m generally not the most optimistic person, but somehow, inexplicably, have come to grips with the rigors and realities of Parkinson’s.

This is the one time in my life I’ve met a roadblock of magnitude head-on and tackled it with a positive attitude. If that isn’t a result of belief in a greater power, I don’t know where it originates.

So I head to another Christmas knowing that while Parkinson’s may not be defeated in our lifetime, I’m learning, day by day, to cope with it. There are probably 1,000 worst things to have.

I will enjoy the day with my family and watch Erin tear into her packages at her second Christmas.